Journeying through the world. Feel free to change perspectives or change settings. DO NOT BRING THE STORY INDOORS!!!!
Bitterly cold winds whistled through the hollows of the tree. I brushed the snow out. A few scattered clovers were the most beautiful scenery in this godforsaken place. I felt the tree trunk. The wood soft, though damp. I curled up inside. Any shelter was welcome. Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift to the heather/clover fields of Millence. It had been a beautiful place. Fresh, warm, welcoming scents brought me home, if not permanently, then in my mind for this moment.
As I slept, the winds died down and the few scattered clovers were ripped out of the ground.
Soft honey tones burst through my eyelids. My eyes fluttered open. Propping myself up on my arms, I watched the sun. It dipped under the viridian hills, washing the mountainside in buttery light. A pang of pain shot through my arm, forcing me to bring it down. A soft voice echoed. It was that dreamy voice, the one that called me into this desert of snow. The voice became louder, harsh. Feet pounded against the powdery snow. I hid in the hollows of the tree trunk, willing my body to become smaller, shrink into the limited space of the trunk. The voice hollered.
"I'll get you, Wantchan!"
Should I relax? Wantchan wasn't my name. He skidded to a stop near the tree. Snow gave him the "slip." I really should run away, I thought. The crunching snow told me he was on the other side of the hole. He tapped on the trunk. Thunk thunk thunk! My heart pounded. The crunching of snow faded into the distance. I sighed and slouched. I could probably chill. Then again, I might just freeze. The air was cold and there I was, without a blanket.